


Living in Memory

by PioneeringAuthor



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Gen, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-26
Updated: 2015-06-26
Packaged: 2018-04-06 05:28:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4209678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PioneeringAuthor/pseuds/PioneeringAuthor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Italy finds out that Holy Roman Empire died, it shatters his heart. Will he learn to move on and continue his life? Will he find comfort in his living friends?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Living in Memory

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone!   
> This is actually one of my latest stories, but it will be the first one I am posting here, considering it is a one-shot, and it popped into my head to post it here tonight.  
> Originally, this was posted on Fan Fiction.net.  
> I hope you all enjoy this! Please leave me nice comments---I want to know if this sounds in-character, jogs any emotions, and if there are any grammar errors that need fixing!  
> Thank you!
> 
> The pioneer with a heart for people and a thousand stories to tell ~+~

Living in Memory

((((ppppqqqq))))

((ppqq))

(pq)

Italy strolled through the field, enjoying the sunshine. As he went, he remembered his childhood, and wondered what ever happened to Holy Roman Empire. They were extremely close as children, until the day came when Holy Rome left Austria's house, leaving Italy alone without a friend. Finally, he decided to ask Austria, who had been curiously silent about it for centuries. He lollopped over to Austria's house and entered the door.

"Mr. Austria? Are you home?" Italy called, noting how spotless the floors were, as they usually were.

The music of Chopin greeted Italy as he spoke; it seemed that Austria was in a foul mood. For a moment, Italy questioned if he should even bother the man-why not go back to the open fields and enjoy the sunshine again?

However, his memories begged for answers, and so he timidly approached the music. Slowly, he neared the source of the music, until he spotted Austria at his favorite piano, with a dark look on his brow. When Austria stopped playing, Italy took another step forward.

"Yes, Italy? What do you want?" Austria snapped, clearly angered by something.

With a gulp, Italy stammered, "I-I… I… Well… I was j-just wondering if… you knew what happened… to… Holy Rome?"

At the mention of that name, Austria looked up, and his gaze softened.

"You… don't know?" Austria breathed, unable to believe his ears.

"No… do you?" Italy answered, hoping that Austria wouldn't be furious at him.

For a few minutes, Austria turned back to his piano and began to play a sad tune, unwilling to speak the truth.

However, he couldn't avoid it, and when the song was done he finally revealed, "Italy… Holy Rome died long ago."

Italy's heart plummeted through the floor. For centuries a part of him hoped that one day, somehow, Holy Rome would come back. Now Italy learned that he was dead… never coming back… ever. It was an earth-shattering revelation.

"WHAT? But… why didn't you tell me?" He wailed.

"I thought you knew," Austria admitted, "You are right… I should have said something… you two were quite close… I'm sorry."

Shocked and saddened beyond words, Italy sprinted out of the house, crying deep tears. Meanwhile, Austria sighed and continued playing sorrowful music. Austria knew all the happy memories Italy must have for Holy Rome… and he wished that he told Italy sooner.

Italy, meanwhile, ran to a nearby stream and cried. Indeed, Holy Rome had been one of the few people nice to him when he was a young nation, and he couldn't believe he was dead. All these years Italy pondered where he went and when he would return… he never imagined Holy Rome dying. Eventually, he stopped crying and merely stared at the river pitifully. Suddenly, he felt a firm hand on his shoulder. When he turned around, he saw Germany.

"Oh… hi, Germany," Italy greeted with a depressed smile.

Normally, he would be happy to see his best friend, the tall, blonde, blue-eyed, muscular nation known as Germany… but this time he was too anguished to be his usual, merry self.

"Austria told me what happened and sent me to look for you," Germany announced in his serious way.

As a strong soldier, Germany was not the comforting type of person-he was an organizer, a tactition, and generally anything but the soft and fluffy comforting type of man. However, he did have a softer side that surfaced at times like this.

"Oh… okay," Italy sighed as he eyed the stream again.

Seeing that his best friend-mostly his ONLY friend-was very distressed and unwilling to talk (which was extremely UNLIKE his usual self), Germany sat beside Italy quietly. This was when his softer side opened up to his friend. He knew that now was not the time to yell at Italy.

Hence, at length Germany said, "You miss him, don't you?"

Italy silently nodded. Another tear cascaded down his cheek as he sat there quietly.

Germany sighed, "Well… there's nothing we can do about it…"

Of course, that didn't make Italy feel better; he began to sniff sadly. Germany inwardly groaned, wishing that he had better people skills. Although he could devise a brilliant military strategy, and organize every corner in his house, he barely understood how to get along with people. However, he did understand one thing: Italy was a… tender-hearted fellow who needed somebody to be gentle to him. Of course, Germany wasn't the most gentle person in the world, but at this moment, he knew that he needed to be kinder or else Italy would be even more depressed, which would make him more useless than he already was. After some deep thought, Germany decided to try his best at being encouraging.

"Look, Italy… I know you miss him… but… you have to move on in your life. You can't spend every day being depressed-it's only going to ruin your life. Go ahead, cry all you want, but ultimately you know that it won't bring him back…. Why don't you think about your friends who are still alive? Surely they can help you get over it…." Germany suggested.

Italy looked at him again and nodded, knowing that Germany was right-eventually he would have to return to his normal, cheerful self.

"I know…" Italy sighed as he studied the water again.

For a few minutes, Germany didn't say anything more. He began to wonder if he ever met Holy Rome—after all, they were brothers… apparently. Sadly, Germany's memory was destroyed long ago, hence he had no recollection of his life before the 1800's, including any brothers he had besides Prussia. However, he knew that Italy needed something to make him feel better, so after some time he added,

"Italy, I know it's sad to lose a friend…but… nations rise and fall all around the world through the centuries-it's part of life. We have to learn to… learn from their mistakes and move forward. Of course, this does not mean that we forget our fellow nations and friends, it simply means that we learn things from their history. Instead of being depressed, we can look at what they did and use it to help our lives…. Instead of crying, you should tell others about him, to teach them, and… to remind yourself of all the good things he did…. Tell others about him, and history will never forget him, but if you keep him to yourself and mourn forever, history may forget."

He had no idea if that helped, but Germany hoped that it did. Thankfully, it did.

Italy looked back at Germany, calmer than before and responded, "Okay… I will try."

With that said, a small smile spread across his features. Germany relaxed. It seemed that Italy would return to his usual, cheerful self soon. In the meantime, Italy would choose to remember his friends from long ago in a way that made him laugh instead of cry. Although he could never bring back Holy Rome, he could remember him, as if he was still there beside him. For as long as he lived, he would never forget Holy Rome or any of his departed friends, and he would tell others about them, keeping them alive in his memories.


End file.
